


Wolfrider

by ScholarOfSecrets



Series: Opposed Factions [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Bondage, Captivity, Collaboration, Gay, Humiliation, Kidnapping, M/M, Oral, Orc, Warcraft - Freeform, Worgen, worgen male/orc male
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23228068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScholarOfSecrets/pseuds/ScholarOfSecrets
Summary: Bad fortune delivers a young worgen into the captivity of an orcish warrior.
Series: Opposed Factions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019416
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Wolfrider

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as a collaboration with my wonderful friend Sleth. (https://sleth.sofurry.com/)  
> Thank you for all the fun we had! Couldn't have done this without you.

As he laid there in ambush, the worgen tried to control his breathing.

Crouching in a bush behind the trees wasn't something new for Reilly. In his training and, hell, even in his childhood, he had done plenty of that. What the young worgen hadn't done, however, was killing Horde soldiers. And that was what he was about to do. The worgen's grip on the pommel of his dagger tightened.

"Be quiet, dog. Don't screw this up this time," the human crouching by his side whispered to him. A slap on the back of his head that Reilly wasn't expecting followed and, because of that, the small growl and show of teeth that he gave the human was purely reflexive for the worgen, but it still made the human recoil from him.

"Savage, cursed mutt..." he heard the human muttering in a low voice under his breath with his canine ears. The worgen simply huffed and looked away, keeping his own distance from the human. He didn't even remember the man's name and, given the fact that he wore a helmet, Reilly could barely see his face. Of the five scouts waiting in the ambush, he was the only one that didn't wear a helmet because the damn settlement of Lakeshire didn't have any worgen-shaped ones.

Being downwind, the worgen's nose twitched as he detected something different. Reilly actually noticed the enemy was coming right before the signal was given. A single rumble in the bush on the other side of the wide road was the indication they needed that he was close. The human by his side started notching a bolt into his crossbow while the worgen kept his head low, stood still and pretty much held his breath to avoid making any noise.

Soon enough, his ears twitched to the sound of heavy steps. The road south-east of Lakeshire was full of curves and from one of these did he emerge. A single orc, as reported, mounted on one of those nasty, oversized saddled wolves of theirs. When he came within sight, Reilly leaned forward just a little bit to better study the first real orc he had ever seen in his life.

He wore a large hooded cloak draped over his shoulders concealing most of his form, but in the morning light, Reilly could still see that his skin was of a bright green color like most drawings of orcs he had seen in books and lectures. Used to being around humans, the orc's bulky size impressed the worgen. He had broad shoulders and, as the books said, did look more like a beast than like a man. New hints of his strange scent hit the worgen's nose and, reflexively, he sniffed again. It was different from any humans he had ever smelled, but also not quite as bad as he had always imagined it'd be.

In accordance with their plan, the leader of the scout team jumped down from a tree by the roadside to fall right in the middle of the road and  
block the orc's path. He raised one hand to signal the orc to stop while the other rested on the pommel of his sword.

"Halt, orc!" the captain said. Gregory was his name. The last word was spoken with a tone of repulsion added to it that the worgen was all too familiar with. "You have entered undisputed Alliance territory! Surrender yourself to us right now or die!"

The orc's hand on his mount's reins gave it one single tug and halted it to a stop. The large wolf growled at the human who did not seem all that happy about it, but the orc didn't move. He didn't climb down from the mount or even said anything. Maybe he didn't speak any Common? The moment of tense silence stretched on, and then further still, making Reilly's anxiety grow. By his side, his companion hustled the leaves of their bush ever so slightly as he pointed the crossbow straight at the orc, ready to shoot.

Captain Gregory, always the impatient sort, drew his sword in a menacing way. The orc stared at him but still said nothing. Through the silence and with his sensitive worgen ears, Reilly could've sworn he heard the orc sigh.

And then, everything happened at once. With uncanny speed and precision, the orc drew a hand-axe from under his cloak and threw it. Reilly gasped seeing the weapon spinning his way, then let out an outright whimper when the human with the crossbow  
next to him grunted in pain as the axe hit him straight in the chest. The worgen fell back sitting and crawled away from the fallen human.

"Attack!" came the order. From the other side of the road, the other two humans jumped out of hiding. The crossbow on the other side fired and hit the orc's mount with precision, toppling the big beast in one hit and forcing the orc to jump down from it in a hurry. He already had another axe in his hand.

Reilly took a deep breath and steeled himself. He gripped his dagger, stood up and moved as well. The captain and the other human charged at the orc and traded blows with him in direct confrontation, but the worgen's job was different. His paw pads touched the ground with silent purpose as he quickly approached the orc from behind with his dagger in hand.

"Strike below the ribs. Below the ribs. Just like in practice. Below the ribs..." Reilly thought to himself. He sped up his step eyeing the busy orc's waist. One good hit was all he needed. The worgen got close enough for a leap from the shadows, dagger plunging forward towards its target, eyes deadly set on the right spot...

Yet at the last possible second, the orc spun. Reilly didn't have time to react to the large green fist that came towards his muzzle as he only lifted his eyes to see it right before it hit him. The strength of the blow was such  
that the worgen flew back. His world spun, his vision darkened and pain shot up from his muzzle. Then, with a whimper, the worgen felt his back hit the ground.

Reilly tethered at the edge of consciousness. The sounds of the battle that had seemed so loud before felt distant. The throbbing pain in his muzzle made the worgen grunt and slowly bring a paw up to feel it. Nothing broken. Reilly realized he had let go of his dagger at some point. That triggered some distant memory of a human whose name he didn't remember telling their class that the moment you let go of your weapon, you lose. Had he lost? It happened so fast! It wasn't fair. The hazy part of Reilly's mind then felt afraid of the reprimand and punishment the humans would give him for failing. They'd blame it all on the 'cursed dog of Lakeshire' again. Fuck, that would suck...

At some point in his haze, Reilly noticed that the sound had stopped. He opened his eyes and saw nothing but the blue sky at first. His muzzle still hurt, though. His paw rubbed it and he groaned from the pain. He registered the sound of steps by his side and then, all of a sudden, a hand grabbed at the leather vest on his chest to yank him up to a sitting position. The worgen suddenly found himself face to face with the orc. Adrenaline shot through him to help him recover his senses which in turn had Reilly's hands coming up to protect himself, but they froze in place when the orc's other hand had the edge of his axe pressed right against the worgen's neck.

Reilly could now see the orc from up-close. His skin was green indeed with dark hair over his orcish head that already had a few graying locks. The orc, however, looked anything but old. Absent his cloak, the warrior's muscular biceps were exposed and his  
chest, while hidden, was well defined under the layer of crude chainmail armor he wore. Around his waist was tied a sash of bright purple cloth. His eyes were red as he stared into the worgen's own and the large orcish tusks protruding from his mouth looked as intimidating as any worgen's canines for Reilly there and then. The worgen's ears flew back with fear. The sight of his former companions fallen in the background didn't escape his sight either.

"W-wait! Don't kill me!" the worgen pleaded. 

The orc pretty much growled at him and pressed his axe harder against the worgen's neck.

"The way I see it, worgen, I have two options," the orc said in an accented but otherwise surprisingly fluent Common, "either I let you live, you run back to your outpost and I find myself ambushed by three times the amount of alliance soldiers... or I kill you and continue on my way in peace." The orc pressed the edge of the axe dangerously close to the worgen's neck. Reilly let out another whine with his eyes widening.

"I won't tell anyone!" Reilly blurted out desperately. That made the orc sneer down at him.

"Sure you won't." The orc pulled his axe back. For a moment, the worgen thought maybe he'd have a chance, but he soon saw that the orc was actually lifting it for a blow. "Sorry pup. I already lost my mount in this damn ambush. Bred and prepared that damn wolf myself for years. Was ready to be sold. Do you know how much gold your little raid cost me? If you'd just let a lone orc be on his way, none of this would've happened."

The edge of the orc's axe glistened against the sun. The worgen looked up at it with fear in his eyes. His mind raced. Every survival instinct he had kicked in. Reilly tried to pull away from the orc, scramble back, but the orc had a knee over his legs to keep him still. He tried to use his paws to pull pry the orc's hand away in a hurry, but the axe would come down if he tried anything. Reilly did the only thing he could possibly think of to survive.

"Wait! WAIT! You can get gold! You can get gold!!"

His words did make the orc stop. He lifted an eyebrow. Those red eyes studied him closely. When the axe didn't come down at him, the worgen quickly continued.

"I'm from a noble family! A very noble Gilnean family! I-If  
you take me back to Lakeshire they'll pay ransom for me! You can get gold and I live! Please!"

The orc didn't react right away. Still with axe in hand, he continued to study the worgen while Reilly's heart beat loud in his chest. ...Would he see through his lie? Reilly didn't have a drop of 'noble' blood coursing through his veins. Finally, much to his relief, the orc lowered his axe with a grunt.

"Is that why you're such a bad fighter? You humans with your senseless belief in noble blood always make for the worst ones." The orc scoffed at him but did put his axe away. The worgen found that he could easily ignore the insult to his lack of fighting prowess if it meant he'd survive.

"Fine. Might as well make up for some of my loss." Before Reilly could even say anything else, the orc's fist was coming up towards his face again. The second blow must have been very calculated because the worgen barely had time to register any pain before the world grew black and his consciousness faded.

____________________________________________________________________________

The cawing of crows stirred him awake. His eyes were still closed, and his head was tortured by a splitting headache. Pressed to his face, he felt the moist texture of grass and his nostrils were invaded by the smell of dirt and dried blood. Did he get drunk again last night? Did he get into a fight with one of the townsfolk again? No matter, it's not like the Captain or the rest of the scout team would think of him any less for it. He didn't imagine they could since they hardly considered him anything more than a cursed monster. Wait, the Captain! The scout team!

It all came back to him in a flash. The ambush. The orc! Reilly opened his eyes in a fit of panic, only to be blinded by the rays of the afternoon sun. When he frantically tried to rise up, he realized that his hands were tied behind his back, and soon enough he noticed that his legs were bound as well. Without thinking he tried to yell for help, only to find that his muzzle was constricted as well. His eyes darted to his nose and he saw that a leather muzzle covered the whole of his snout save his nostrils, keeping his maw shut. 

"Finally awake, pup?" The rough low voice sent shivers down the worgen's spine. Reilly slowly turned his head towards the direction from which the orc's voice came from until his eyes laid upon his captor. There stood the green mountain. His back was turned to the worgen, and between his spread legs, Reilly saw a yellow stream flowing down, clashing against an old oak that stood in front of the orc. He no longer wore his cloak, thus giving the worgen a better look at his features. 

His black hair was tied into a thick braid that ran across the orc's scalp and down his back, long enough that the tip almost reached the orc's waist. The braid was adorned by metal rings and bands. From both of the orc's ears hung on a leather string a large tusk. Or horn, or maybe those were teeth or claws, but they were larger than his canines, about the size of the orc's own tusks. What monstrous animal they came from he couldn't tell. Both of the orc's arms were exposed. They were bulging with muscles and covered in a disorderly collage of tattoos.

The orc was done pissing. He shoved his dick back into his pants (something Reilly was glad he didn't have to see), turned around and started walking in the worgen's direction. A wave of fear once again washed over the worgen, as those horrible red eyes drilled into Reilly's own green ones once again. The orc cut the distance in a few steps and squatted in front of his terrified captive. He didn't say a word, he just sat there studying the young soldier. Now that Reilly had a proper look at his face, the orc didn't seem as scary as he thought he would be. From the front, he noticed that the orc's braid began as a semi-mohawk. A few locks of hair standing wild at the orc's widow's peak, quickly transforming into a black and gray serpent that slithered down the orc's spine. Surprisingly, the orc's tusks were just as clean as Reilly's own teeth. His nose was adorned by metal bull-ring piercing. The orc's lips were curved into a thoughtful frown and on his upper lip laid an old scar from presumably a cut. On his chin, the orc cultivated a short goatee. 

He grabbed the worgen with both hands and put him into a sitting position. Reilly tried to say something, only to be reminded of the leather muzzle keeping him shut as soon as he attempted to open his mouth.

"Sorry about that, but I really can do without you yelling the moment you woke up." The orc sounded awfully calm and collected for a savage beast sneaking through hostile territory. He wasn't what Reilly imagined and orc would look and act like. He always heard of smelly, ugly, stupid and cruel beasts. This orc, however, didn't stink, he smelled different from anything Reilly knew but he certainly didn't stink. He wasn't some fair elf, but his face wasn't horribly disfigured, covered in warts or hard to look at in any other way. And from the look in those red eyes, Reilly guessed that this orc was far from stupid. If he was cruel, however, was yet to be seen.

"Are you thirsty?" asked the orc, yet the firm voice made it sound like a statement rather than a question. Now that the orc said it, Reilly felt how dry his mouth and throat were. Carefully and slowly he nodded. In response, the orc suddenly raised his hand and a green palm flew towards Reilly's head. The worgen shut his eyes and cowered in fear. That was the wrong answer! The orc just tried to trick him! But instead of a punch, he heard a chuckle. After slowly opening his eyes he found that the leather muzzle that imprisoned his jaws was covered by a large green hand. 

"You really are a coward, aren't you?" said the orc, and his voice dripped with amusement. "Did your owner beat you when you were a little puppy?" This time the orc pitched his voice for comical effect, talking to him as he would with a toddler. Reilly was, however, too frightened to even mind the mockery.

"Here's how it's going to work, pup," continued the orc, in his normal voice. "I will remove this muzzle and if you won't start yelling, I will give you a bottle of water to drink from, and food to eat. If you start making noises, I will put that muzzle back on, and for the rest of our journey, I will just dump your head into the river when I feel that you look thirsty. Same with food, but I doubt that you will enjoy having that cold snout of yours diving into a pot of boiling soup." Reilly stared at the orc blinking. He was clearly waiting for the warning to fully sink in, before continuing. "After you are done drinking and eating, we will talk. You will answer me quietly and to the point. Or I will put the muzzle back on, and the same punishment applies. Do we understand each other?" And again, his question was a statement.

The green fingers undid the muzzle and cold forest breeze caressed the worgen's now exposed snout. Reilly, however, was almost too afraid to breathe. The orc untied a waterskin bottle from his belt, removed the cork and placed the mouth of the bottle to Reilly's lips. The worgen would have preferred if he didn't have his hands tied behind his back and could hold the bottle himself, but with the thirst, this was just a minor inconvenience. Reilly drank from the bottle to the last drop, and for a moment was afraid the orc would punish him for it, but his captor apparently didn't mind. After that, the orc pulled from his bag a slice of bread and a sausage. He let Reilly have one bite of the sausage, it tasted similar to pork, and slowly fed him the slice of bread, piece by piece. The young worgen's hunger wasn't quite sated. But considering his situation, he was grateful for what he got.

"You see?" said the orc "If you play by the rules with me you will be rewarded, misbehave and you will be punished." The orc was silent for a moment to make a point before he sat himself down from his squatting position and continued. "So,  
your name."

The worgen gulped and waited, fearful of whether or not he could speak. "Rei-" He started, but his throat was sore, so he coughed a little before continuing "R-Reilly Cotton." The twitching in the corners of the orc's mouth was a good enough sign that the orc found the name amusing. But surprisingly, or maybe not, unlike for many humans, making fun of Reilly's name was too low even for the orc. 

"How much gold are you worth?"

The lie that he told the orc to save his life dawned on him. He had no noble relatives. In fact, he had no living relatives to begin with. He was a street urchin ever since his family was killed by feral worgen back in Gilneas. Ever since he was bitten...

He hardly had a few silver coins to his name and his property were the clothes he wore and the food he ate. His only hope was that the people in Lakeshire were honorable enough that they would ransom a soldier of the Alliance even if in their eyes he is just a cursed mutt.

He looked around to see how far they were from Lakeshire, and suddenly he noticed something terrible. He was so preoccupied with the orc that he didn't even notice they were no longer in Redridge. His eyes  
twitched from place to place until they landed on those red mountains laying in the distance. He even saw the guard tower at Three Corners and even closer he saw the stone bridge that separated the Redridge Mountains from-

Oh no, they were in Duskwood.

Reilly felt like he was going to vomit the little bit of food he just ate. What was happening? Why was he not taken to Lakeshire? Did the orc see through his lie? If he did, why was he still alive? Why didn't the orc kill him? And why was he asking-

"Are you deaf, filthy mutt? I asked, how much gold will I get for you," the orc growled. His patience with the young worgen was clearly not infinite.

"A LOT!" Reilly practically yelled out "A lot! You will get a lot of money, my family is rich!" That seemed to placate the orc's irritation. "B-But, where are you taking me? Are you not going to ransom me?" Reilly almost begged his captor for explanation, but got only laughter in response.

"You think I am that stupid, pup? You think I alone will march to an Alliance city with open arms, when all the payment I could get is an arrow to the eye and you would be free?" Again, he laughed, but this time more forcefully. "No, mutt. I will hand you over to the nearest Horde settlement, and we will see the worth of that mongrel head of yours." Then he stood up, turned around and walked towards his bags before stopping halfway.

"Oh, how rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself." With that he turned to face Reilly again. 

"Name's Rogak Spearfang. At your service your lordship." He said with spite in his voice and bowed in mockery of highborn etiquette.

"I hope you will enjoy my company."

____________________________________________________________________________ 

They must have traveled for hours. They set out before the sunset, but the dark shadows of the forest covered the sun right away. The depressing darkness surrounded him,  
and the skittering sounds that emanated from the shadowy crevices unnerved him even more. Reilly was sure it was a horrible idea to travel through Duskwood during the night. Well, every child knew it was a horrible idea to travel through Duskwood to begin with, but he didn't dare protest his objections to the orc. Honestly, he had more pressing concerns on his mind than being eaten by giant spiders or shambling ghouls. He was going to die anyway if he didn't manage to escape the orc's clutches in time. He was sure that if only he could get on all fours and run, he could get away. But when the orc, Rogak, resumed his journey, he kept Reilly's hands bound behind his back. On top of that, he put a collar and a leash on his neck by which he kept him close. To make sure he didn't bite off the leash or call for help, he kept him muzzled as well.

"You should be glad, if you hadn't killed my wolf, I wouldn't have this equipment to spare." He said when he put the collar and muzzle back on Reilly. "And trust me, you wouldn't like the different methods I would use to keep you quiet." The only joy Reilly found in that, was that since Rogak's mount was dead, he had to carry the saddlebags himself and use his cloak as a makeshift bag to store his saddle and a piece of the wolf's fur he managed to quickly skin. Reilly would also be happy that the orc had to walk on foot, but the orc seemed unfazed by their hours of walking, while Reilly felt like he was going to drop dead at any moment.

For a while, they walked the stone road leading to Darkshire, but when Reilly almost started hoping a sentry would spot them and deliver him from the orc's captivity, Rogak decided to leave the road and venture east, into the woods. They traveled close to the mountains and the young worgen's paws were cut by sharp rocks. Suddenly the orc stopped. In front of them stood what seemed to be an abandoned farm. A small rotten hut with a young but already dead tree in front of its doors, and a small unkept field by its side. For a moment the young worgen thought that perhaps Rogak planned to set camp in that abandoned house. He prayed that it indeed was abandoned so that no family  
would perish at the orc's hand. Or if someone lived there, let it be someone powerful and friendly who would kill the orc. But instead, Reilly heard the orc mumble something to himself, presumably in orcish since he did not understand, turned left and started making his way up the hill. The leashed worgen following close behind.

The hill led into a small crevice in the mountains, hidden by old oaks. Once they climbed all the way up, they emerged in the middle of a dirt road that led one way to their left, and one way to their right. Across them, guarded by a rocky hillside was a half-collapsed guard tower. But once again, Rogak mumbled some orcish under his breath and turned left to follow the path. The path slithered its way further uphill. At one point they even came really close to the ruined tower, but Rogak just tugged at his leash and made him follow, until they reached an old stone arch. Behind it was a small hidden vale. A thin waterfall feeding a creek that made its way further into the mountains. But nothing was more surprising than what laid further back.

An ancient grave, opulently decorated by a visage of a knight on the tombstone, three stone arches making a half-circle that embraced the grave, and two large hooded statues stood side and intimidatingly gazed down upon them. Rogak dropped off his baggage at the foot of the grave and tied his worgen captive to one of the stone arches before taking Reilly's muzzle off. 

Reilly flexed his stiff jaw before he voiced his questions. "What is this place?" seemed to be the most pressing. 

"Knight's Hollow" answered the orc simply "We will camp here for the night."

"Why here? Why not in that abandoned farmhouse, or that tower? We are in the open here." 

Reilly tried not to sound demanding but spending a night at an old gravesite in Duskwood sounded like a horrible idea. The orc sat himself on the carved tombstone, seemingly uncaring of the disrespect he showed towards the one buried there. 

"When I planned my journey, I was warned not to get close to that farm, the thing inside is dangerous. So is the tower. Believe it or not, but this place is safe." His reply was calm and almost bored, he probably didn't even blame the worgen for being so stressed. But the answer put forth even more questions than it answered. What in the farmhouse was so dangerous? What was wrong with the tower? Who warned him? What was he doing here in the first place?

"You are not a Blackrock orc. What were you doing in Render's Valley?" asked Reilly, for in the end, that to him was the most important question. If the orc had not shown up, he would still be safe in Lakeshire. Hated, but safe. This one orc's journey probably ended his life. So, it seemed fair that he knew if it was worth it.

"Private business, whelp." the orc practically spat in Reilly's direction "And if you don't want to ruin my good mood, and you don't, you will keep your mouth shut unless spoken to. Understand?" Reilly gulped and not daring to open his mouth, just nodded. This seemed to please the orc. "Good puppy, you are starting to learn," said Rogak with almost a smile.

After saying that, the orc untied the sash around his waist, letting the purple cloth slither down to his feet, and started to undo the buckles on his chainmail cuirass. Soon his armor fell away piece by piece until the green savage was left in his loincloth. Seeing the confused expression or Reilly's face the orc chuckled. "Don't worry I won't do anything to you. But I need to get rid of all the filth from today's travel." After saying that he walked into the creek and started scrubbing himself.

Rogak took his off loincloth only after he was already in the water, so Reilly was thankfully spared the sight of the orc's privates, but he still had a good view of the orc's back. There were several, mostly vertical scars and the collage of diverse tattoos covered not only his arms but also a large part of his torso. There were runes, snake patterns, and one tattoo looked like a troll mask, but the most prominent was a large tattoo on Rogak's shoulder blade depicting brutal-looking open jaws. Reilly recognized that symbol from his training, he knew it was the sigil belonging to one of the orcish clans, but he couldn't remember which one!

Suddenly Rogak turned towards him, so Reilly quickly averted his gaze away from the naked green man. The  
orc clearly noticed the worgen's movements, as he let out a hearty chuckle. 

"You will wash yourself as well. You reek, pup." Reilly had his eyes closed as he heard the rustle of clothing, hopefully the orc was getting dressed again. His mind raced. Did orcs normally bathe their prisoners? Reilly always heard from veterans about the austere conditions in which the orc lived, so he didn't imagine they would care about the hygiene of their captives. He could imagine it being done in extreme circumstances, but he was just sweaty from the harsh day. It wasn't like he was covered from head to toe in manure.

"Get up." The rough voice stirred him from his thoughts. Reilly opened his eyes again and saw that Rogak now stood in front of him. Fully dressed again, thankfully. He didn't dare disobey the order, so he rose up as far as the leash would allow him. The orc bent over and untied the leash, letting the leather rope fall to the ground. For a moment nothing held Reilly back. But before he could react to the thought, strong green hands already held him by the shoulders.

Reilly's heart started beating faster when he felt the large orc's rough hands fiddling with the rope keeping his wrists tied behind his back. They became undone, but the orc kept a grip so firm on one of his arms that the worgen let out a little whine of pain as it was shoved upwards.

"Lift your arms. Behave," the orc warned with that deep voice of his. He didn't give the worgen much choice in the matter, handling, pushing and pulling him to get what he wanted. The orc pulled the worgen's shirt up towards his face and forced his arms up so that he could pull it off of his body, then forcefully turned Reilly around to face him.

"Give me your wrists. If you even think about using these claws of yours I'll clip them off one by one."

For a brief moment, Reilly looked up at the orc. He frowned at the green beast, but the orc's responding glare was so intimidating that Reilly found his ears folding back without him meaning to. Thoughts of jumping at the orc crossed his mind, but he was fully alert and expecting it and, after the event with his fellow scouts, it was clear that he didn't stand a chance against the damn orc even in a fair fight. Reluctantly, Reilly brought his other hand forward and as soon as he did, the orc grabbed it and pulled it together with the wrist he already held to start wrapping that damn rope against them again.

"I'm gonna tie your hands in front of you so that you can wash yourself. I'm not going to scrub your filthy hide." the orc said with a grumble. Within seconds, the rope was tight and secure around his wrists, but having them in front of him was a whole lot better than having them behind his back.

Then, the orc took hold of his belt and snapped it open. Reilly's pants fell down to his ankles without it to hold them up and that made the worgen gasp and try to step back. The orc was still prepared, for he immediately grabbed the scruff of fur behind Reilly's neck and twisted it in a painful way to keep him from retreating.

"OW! What are you doing?!" Reilly asked, unable to keep quiet. He wanted to bend over to pick his pants and pull them back up, but the orc held him still. To make matters worse, a hand pulled Reilly's undergarment down in one rough shove as well. Then, the damned bastard placed a foot over his pants to keep them against the ground.

"Step out of them. What, you want to wash yourself with clothes on? Is that something you Alliance people do? Wouldn't doubt it." There was mockery in the orc's voice. Reilly let out a small growl, but when the grip on his fur tightened, he whimpered and was forced to slowly step out of his pants, which made the feeling of pressing nudity he was afflicted with intensify.

"Huh. You dogs really are animals," the orc commented. Reilly had to glance up at him and follow his eyes to realize that the orc was looking at his exposed sheath when he said that. The notion made the worgen's face grow hot with embarrassment and prompted him to quickly cover it with his bound hands. Thankfully, the orc also let go of his scruff now that he was obeying. He grabbed Reilly by the shoulder and turned the worgen around, directing him towards  
the water. The orc shoved him forward to force him to walk, but kept his hands on his shoulder to keep him still until they reached its edge. The leash dangling from the collar, the only piece he still wore on his body, dragged through the ground beside him.

"You will get in, wash the dirt out of your fur and get out." His tone was as commanding and arrogant as always. Reilly's frown deepened. Once he got out of the water he knew the orc would tie him up again. If they reached the Horde settlement he would be doomed. He only had one chance. The orc's hand on his shoulder trailed down to his back to feel his fur there. He didn't know the intent of it, but as the seconds passed, Reilly tried to build up courage. 

His hands were now tied in front of him, and that was as good as he could hope for. Now he would have to gamble. And if he failed the results would be catastrophic for him. The orc was still entertaining himself with his worgen body, so Reilly took a deep breath and-

He threw his head back, slamming the back of his head into the orc's face with as much force as he could muster. In shock, and hopefully pain, the orc eased his grip on Reilly. The worgen used the moment and leaped onto his bound hands into a running position, in the same motion he kicked back his leg into the orc's groin. He heard a yelp of pain but by then he was already behind the stone arch and on the serpentine dirt path.

Running with hands tied in front wasn't as easy as he hoped for. He was forced to awkwardly switch between running on all 'threes' and running bipedally. Sometimes he felt that the leather leash that awkwardly dragged behind him get caught in some bush or twig, but that was just a minor inconvenience. He ran as fast as he could until he noticed again the ruined tower, and for a moment he considered hiding there, or in that farm if he could find his way back. But if even the orc didn't dare enter, it was definitely a horrible idea for him as well. He could only hope that the winding path would lead him to a safe haven. For a moment he forgot all about the dangers of Duskwood, he paid no attention to the trees and their rotten arms that tried to reach him. He just ran, for what seemed like an eternity.

Suddenly, another stone arch stood in front of him, same as the one guarding the gravesite. And for a moment Reilly's heart skipped in terror. Did he run in a circle? He kept going and thank the Light he did. Behind the arch, the dirt path ended in a crossroad. Or rather, the path connected to a wide cobbled road that was lit by lanterns. He looked left and right but he could see no end in sight for either direction. Time was running out, so without thinking he turned left and ran.

For a moment, he noticed the ruined tower in the corner of his eye but paid it no mind. The further he got the more 'dead' everything around started to appear. The trees were dried, no grass to be seen, and the rocky hills were grey and sharp.

It happened in a flash.

His leash tugged. The air was knocked out of his lungs. And with a sharp 'thud' Reilly landed flat on his back. Looking down on him was a green face, seething with rage.

Reilly's ears fell back against his head. The worgen's first instinct was to twist and jerk away from the orc.

"Oh no you don't," the orc growled and, faster than Reilly realized, the orc's boot was flying straight towards his crotch. The impact against his balls made the worgen let out a silent gasp as pain radiated from his loins. All of his strength was sapped from him and, through his teary eyes, Reilly barely registered how the orc picked him up and hauled him over his shoulder like a sack while he still squirmed from the lingering pain.

"Doesn't feel so good, does it? Gettin' kicked in the nuts?" the orc grumbled. "You've got to be the stupidest, dumbest fucking mutt of all the fucking Alliance," the orc said while he walked. Reilly was just recovering enough to make sense of his dire situation. His arms and tied wrists hung awkwardly behind the orc's back and the damned green beast still had a firm hold of his leash even while carrying the  
naked worgen like a sack over his shoulder with an arm around his waist.

The realization that the orc was going to take him back hit him as he slowly recovered. Yet, the pain radiating from his groin felt crippling. From his weird vantage point over the orc's shoulder, Reilly could see how the orc too seemed to walk a little funny with the occasional little grunt. Despite the pain and direness of his situation, the worgen felt a little proud to at least know the kick he had given the orc's nuts had hurt just as much.

"Stupid, fucking, mangy runt," the orc continued to grumble, "do you even know where you were running to? Fucking Deadwind Pass. You ought to be fucking thankful that I caught up to you before you got ripped apart by the abominations that crawl out of Karazhan."

That was perhaps a good point, but the worgen still didn't feel thankful in any way. In his daze, Reilly wasn't sure for how long he laid on the orc's shoulder. The pain took some time to start fading and even when it did, a lingering ache coming from between his legs remained. The worgen blinked, realizing that his surroundings had at some point returned to being the somber treelines of Duskwood. The stone arches, the creepy grave... For the worgen, it happened suddenly. The orc's brutish hands heaved him off his shoulder and threw him forward. Before he even realized what was happening, Reilly found himself falling and then, with a loud splash, water enveloped him from all sides.

It went into his yelping muzzle and up his nostrils. Reilly flailed underwater for a second or two but with his hands bound in front of him, he couldn't swim. His feet found solid ground at the bottom, though, indicating the water wasn't deep, but before he could properly regain his footing a hand grabbed came under the water to grab at his scruff again and pull his head out of it. Reilly went into a coughing fit when his head finally emerged from the surface, spitting mouthfuls of water.

"There. That will be your bath for now." The orc still sounded angry. He dragged the worgen out of the creek and let him fall forward on his knees by its edge. Drenched and still gasping for proper air, Reilly had no chance of fighting the orc when he undid the rope keeping his wrists in front of him and roughly pulled the worgen's arms back behind his back to tie them back there again.

On his knees and with his heart sinking over having his hands inaccessible again, Reilly, with his ears lowered, looked up at the orc who was staring down at him with the same angry glare from before.

"You're causing me so much trouble that I had half a mind to just drown you there and be done with you, gold be damned," the damn orc growled down at him. That brought a frown out of Reilly.

"Fuck you," the worgen muttered, looking away.

"What did you just say?" 

Reilly stole a glance towards the orc. It was enough to see he was fuming. Though that brought fear out of the worgen, it also brought him satisfaction.

"Fuck. You." Reilly looked up at the orc, angry himself that his plan, as stupid and improvised as it had been, had been thwarted. Angry that he was in that savage's hands being led to his doom by a fucking leash like some actual dog. With that anger flaring up inside him, Reilly pulled up and spit upward towards the damn orc.

Admittedly, not even the worgen expected his spit to go so far as to reach the orc's cheek. Rogak flinched for just a split second, then slowly brought a hand up to wipe the spit off his face. When the orc's red eyes focused on the worgen again, they were seething with such anger that immediate regret swelled up inside Reilly. His ears fell back against his head.

"Alright," the orc said in a surprisingly controlled tone. Except it felt cold. "Someone clearly needs to learn his place here."

Reilly's fear grew when the orc reached into his clothing to pull a steel dagger. The worgen recoiled back, but still on his knees and with his hands behind his back, he could barely turn away from the orc before one of his big green hands grabbed a handful of the fur of his scruff again and pulled him close. Reilly whimpered and when he was roughly turned around, he started to struggle against the orc but was forced to freeze right away when the cold metal of the dagger was pressed right against his neck. He could feel its sharpness against his skin, but the orc kept the hold on his scruff tight as well to keep him from even retreating from it.

Slowly, the orc went down to one knee in front of him while holding him in that position. It put him at eye level with the damned green beast. Reilly's eyes full of fear met the gaze of his red eyes.

"Let me tell you something about me. I know you blue shits think that orcs are dirty beasts. Some of us are, I can't deny it, but not me. I hate dirt and grime. And do you know what else I hate, worgen?"

Reilly didn't respond. He just stared at the orc. The simple act of swallowing his own saliva had the dagger's steel press just a little harder against his neck in a way that made him let out another quiet whine of fear.

"Being spat on by a coward. Do you know what I feel like doing right now? I feel like sinking this dagger into your skin and just leaving you here to slowly bleed out." The orc's hold on his scruff tightened in an almost painful way. The anger behind his controlled tone of voice became more apparent. 

"I feel like taking a large detour to get as close to Karazhan as I can, then hang you upside down from a tree and see what happens. Fuck, I feel like actually taking you all the way down to Grom'gol just so that I can soak you in pigsblood and use you as bait. A tiger's hide might fetch me more money than your filthy life."

Reilly's ears were glued down to his head in obvious fear. All of the courage he had gathered to stand up to the orc was gone as images of what was described went through his head.

"Please!" the worgen managed to plead. "I'm sorry!"

His words only seemed to make the orc angrier for a moment. His grip tightened, the dagger against his throat pressed yet a little further against it. Reilly closed his eyes swearing he was about to die, but then, with a grunt, the dagger was pulled away. The hold on his scruff was gone as well. When the worgen dared open his eyes, the orc was back to standing in front of him, but with the dagger threateningly close. Confused, he looked up at the orc's eyes, but saw that the orc was focused on his body rather than his gaze.

"Bah," the orc just grumbled. "You're 'sorry'? I've heard that before. So here's what we're gonna do, pup." Reilly just watched with fear and confusion as the orc reached down to his belt to start undoing it. "You're going to have one chance to prove to me that you're sorry, that you can behave, and that you're worth still keeping alive for the gold. If you try anything else I will take the first creative idea I have to grant you a slow death and I'll execute it, then I'll continue on my way."

The orc sounded genuine. Without even having to think about it, Reilly quickly nodded. "Okay! F-fine! I'll behave, I promise, I'll do anything!"

"Anything, huh?" That, for once, brought a smirk back to the orc. Finishing undoing his belt, he opened the laces of his pants with a quick tug. Reilly, on his knees in front of him, had a clear view of the  
orc's hands working right in front of his muzzle. Even more so when they reached into his pants to pull out the last thing the worgen expected, or wanted, to see. "If you like spitting so much, I'll give you something that you can get your drool on."

Reilly's eyes grew wide. When the orc pulled his dick out in front of him, the first thing that hit him was the smell. His sensitive, canine nose took an instinctive whiff of it and, as clean as the orc was, the indistinguishable smell of his manhood still had an earthly musk to itself. Reilly turned his muzzle slightly away to at least get his nose away from it, but his eyes were a different matter. The worgen had never even seen a dick that wasn't either human or worgen and the orc's? Its foreskin was as green as the rest of his skin all the way to the tip where a regular pink-skinned head hid beneath it. The size was very much in scale with the orc himself, making it the largest and thickest member that the worgen had ever seen, but that wasn't all of it. What really made the worgen's jaw fall agape was the fact that the orc had a golden ring pierced through the head of his shaft in, Reilly presumed, a decorative manner. Just as some orcs used earrings in their ears, this one had the ring on his...

"What? Never seen a dick before?" the orc snorted from above. His hand came down to grab the base of his shaft and give it a few strokes. Reilly saw first-hand how the semi-limp member started gaining a little more life, hardening to grow right in front of him and therefore slowly coming up to point at his muzzle rather at the ground. The reality of what was happening hit the worgen like a brick to the head. He shook his surprise over the orc's member off and looked up at him instead. The orc now held the dagger between his teeth so that he could keep the hold on his scruff with one hand and stroke himself with the other.

"W-what're you doing? What're you gonna do?!" The worgen didn't like where things were going. The orc smirked down at him, the dagger between his teeth somehow making it look even more intimidating, and the hand stroking his dick sped up. 

The way the orc looked at him... If he didn't know better, he might think the brute was going to eat him alive or something. Soon enough, the orc's member reached full mast. Even with his muzzle turned slightly to the side, the orc kept him so close that the tip of that thing touched him sometimes. He took the dagger back in hand and, much to Reilly's terror, tightened the grip on his scruff again while pressing the sharp blade right under his chin again.

"Hmm, I'm sure a dog like you is smart enough to get an idea, hah. Here's what you're gonna do to prove you can be a good pup," the orc started. His voice was as cold as before. He took half a step forward, which made the tip of his cock and the ring press right against Reilly's nose. The scent of his malehood grew much stronger, but when the worgen tried to twist away from it, the grip on his scruff shifted forward to the shorter fur between his head and the orc held him still.

"You're going to open that muzzle of yours, willingly, and then you're gonna please me."

Reilly's eyes shot up towards the orc. He couldn't say he wasn't expecting something of the sort but hearing it spelled out loud still made his heart sink.

"This will prove that you can be a hard-working, well-behaved pup that is worth keeping alive. Perhaps also make up for some of the pain and hassle you've caused me."

"But I don't s- hngh!"

The worgen started stammering through words to complain about it, but the moment he started speaking, the orc tightened the twisting grip on the fur in his head in a hurtful way that pulled at it while at the same time pressing the dagger so hard against the skin of his neck that Reilly was afraid it had drawn blood. It made Reilly wince with a hurtful expression.

"Quiet. Dogs don't talk." The orc, not relenting on the hurtful grip, shifted in place just a little bit so that his still hard cock was right against Reilly's nose again. "Give it a lick."

The order was straight and cold. The worgen, grunting from the hurtful hold on his fur, looked at the orc's dick right in front of him but still hesitated. His eyes trailed up and found the orc's own eyes fixated on him, studying him with a relentless gaze. Reilly couldn't look at those terrifying red eyes for long. With much dread, the worgen's gaze went back down to what was ahead of him and, reluctantly, he extended his long canine tongue forward and winced when he felt it trail through the underside of the orc's cockhead as he licked it. The taste was a mix of that earthly, concentrated musk combined with metal as his tongue brushed against that ring.

Much to Reilly's relief, the grip on his fur lightened when he licked. It was still there, but the orc simply kept the fur between his fingers rather than twisting and pulling at it. The dagger, however, remained pressed against his neck even if that too yielded a little.

"That's a good pup," the orc said, sounding mildly pleased. "Keep licking."

The worgen's heart sank again. When he didn't obey right away, the grip on his fur started to tighten, but then Reilly quickly extended his tongue forward to lap at the orc's cock again. The grip softened right away, but the worgen still had to close his eyes for a moment in order to cope with the more frequent taste as he continued to lick the orc's manhood.

A subtle groan of pleasure came from above. Reilly opened his eyes to see the orc's cock hardening just a tad more with an occasional throb. He couldn't believe he was licking an orc's dick. As Reilly continued to desperately lap at it, the realization of what he was actually doing weighed on him as those thoughts pushed their way into his mind alongside his need for survival. The worgen felt his face and ears growing hot at the prospect, but the sharpness of the dagger uncomfortably pressed against his neck spoke louder. The fear still coursing inside him made his survival the priority and survive he would, no matter what. After what felt like an eternity for the worgen, the orc finally spoke up.

"That's enough," he said, much to Reilly's relief, and the worgen stopped right away. He would lick the earth below him if he could in order to get the taste that lingered out of his tongue. The orc, however, was clearly not done yet. "You're doing good so far. Maybe there's hope for you yet."

Reilly glanced up, but still saw the same fearful severity in the orc's eyes.

"You're going to open wide now. You're going to please me like a good pup," the orc continued. 

"You're gonna want to make a  
real effort to keep those big dog teeth of yours away from my dick because if I feel even a tiny pick of them, I'm going to slit your throat and be done with you. Is that clear?"

The worgen just stared up at the orc with dread plain in his expression for a while. He saw the brute's eyes narrowing towards him with impatience.

"I asked you a question. Is that clear?" The grip on his fur tightened just a little. It was enough for Reilly to try a small nod.

"Y-yes!"

The orc's grip did not waver. "Repeat it to me, then. You're going to open wide and please me like a good pup."

Reilly felt his face grow hot again, but he did what he had to do.

"I'm going to open wide and please you like a good pup!" The worgen blurted out the words. He did see a small smirk growing on the orc's face.

"That's a good pup. Open."

Saying it was one thing, doing it was a different one entirely. Reilly looked at the orc's hard dick pointing straight at him. Both the flesh and the metal ring glistened, wet with his own saliva, and yet...

"Open. I won't repeat myself."

The authority in the orc's voice combined with his fear pushed him into submission. Reilly opened his muzzle wide. His ears remained lowered as he stared at the orc's dick. He didn't move right away, but the worgen couldn't tell if he was being careful or just torturing him with the anticipation. Maybe both? Eventually, however, much to the worgen's dread, the orc did push forward.

Still afraid given the early threats, Reilly just opened his maw even wider even though he winced when he felt the first taste of dick. He was careful to keep his teeth away from the orc's skin even as the orc pressed his cockhead right over his tongue, then moved his hips ever so slightly to rub it against it. The taste of the orc's manhood was well felt by the worgen. Little by little, the orc slid himself further in, always with that dagger pressed against his neck, until the pubic hair that adorned the base of the orc's dick was tickling the worgen's nose in an unpleasant way.

"It's like you dogs are just meant to take dick with those long muzzles and tongues of yours," the orc said with a sneer. As he pressed himself yet further in, Reilly found his nose instead pressed against that pubic fur while the tip of the orc's dick was just about to reach his throat. If he didn't have a long muzzle he would indeed never be able to take that thing. Even with his muzzle, however, the orc's tool was thick enough so that it occupied most of the space in there. Reilly tried not to move, still wary of his teeth.

"Start suckling," the orc ordered. "I'm not gonna be doing all the work here."

Reilly's eyes trailed up to the orc. He couldn't believe he was doing what he was doing. A fleeting thought of what his Alliance companions would say if they could see him like that went through his mind. It did bring a small urge to bite down on the orc's cock. He wondered how much damage he could do before that dagger slit his throat, but when he tried to  
measure that... dying to possibly just graze at an orc's cock did not seem like a worthy death. Worthy or unworthy, the thought of death alone was enough to terrify the worgen to his core. Therefore, he went with the only option he had left.

As he swirled his tongue around the dick inside his muzzle, he heard a small groan of approval coming from the orc above. He moved his muzzle just a little and found that, while the orc's hand continued to hold to the fur of his head, it did allow him some level of limited movement. Enough for him to pull back from the orc's dick back to a more comfortable level, if it could even be called comfortable given what he was doing.

The worgen, of course, had no experience whatsoever in giving oral pleasure. He himself had seldom ever received and never in his life he thought he'd be on his knees sucking another man's cock. Even if he had thought of that, it would surely be a human, perhaps another worgen at best, but never an orc. He didn't have time to ponder over the twists of fate that assailed him, though. As humiliating as it was for him, Reilly tried his best to concentrate on somehow pleasing the orc while keeping his teeth away.

"You gotta move a little bit," the orc instructed with a grunt. He pulled on Reilly's fur to force him to withdraw from his cock until only the tip remained between his lips, then slowly pulled the worgen back in until his nose was pressed against his crotch again. The orc repeated the motion himself a few times while Reilly simply slurped on his cock and tried to cope with both the taste and texture grinding over his tongue. Then, the orc's hand loosened the grip and Reilly got the hint that he was supposed to bob up and down the length himself. He did.

"Hrmm. Yeah. That's it. That's a good pup," the orc continued from above. The 'compliments' only made the worgen feel even cheaper doing what he was doing, but at least they were an indication that he was on the right path. When he pressed his tongue against the underside of the orc's cockhead he heard a new groan of pleasure from above, so he judged that to be good. He repeated the motion. The same thing happened when he used his dextrous tongue coil around the length a little bit when he took the orc's dick deep into his maw. That also seemed to please the orc, so he reluctantly repeated the motion as well.

The taste and smell of the orc's manhood were all he could feel. The dagger against his neck went away at some point, but Reilly could still see the sharp steel glistening from the corner of his eye and he knew that it would only take a split second for that to bury itself into his throat if the orc wanted. As awful as it was, the worgen had no choice but to continue.

Eventually, the orc's grip on his fur tightened again to keep him still. The orc pulled out and, when he did, Reilly got to see how that cock throbbed right in front of him. A droplet of something white appeared at the tip, making the worgen wince with disgust. It was even worse when the orc pushed his cock back into his maw. He had tasted the saltiness of the orc's precum before but knowing that's what he was tasting made it yet a little worse for him.

"Stay still," the green beast ordered from above. Confused, Reilly obeyed. The grip on fur kept him there and then, the orc himself humped into his maw, surprising the worgen for a moment. He was quick to pull out, then thrust back in again. Reilly let out an uncomfortable whimper.

"Open wide. I better not feel any fucking teeth," he grunted from above. Reilly immediately obeyed, fearful, but the orc thrust so deep into his maw that it became more and more uncomfortable. The speed picked up and the worgen soon realized that the orc was simply fucking his face. He no longer needed to suck because the orc himself was grinding his cock against his tongue.

Fortunately for Reilly, or perhaps unfortunately, the face-fucking did not last long. The orc's grunts took a new tone while he huffed in a loud manner through his nose. His pleasure was clearly reaching its peak, but just as Reilly started to consider the true meaning of that, it happened.

The orc, in one single rough movement, both pulled the worgen's head against him and shoved his hips forward to bury his cock deep into his maw. In there, it pulsed right against his tongue to shoot a first thick jet of something warm and thick down his throat. Reilly immediately coughed and gagged and, while he did, the orc quickly pulled out so that his green cock could shoot the second, third, and fourth strong jets of spunk straight against the worgen's face. They painted his muzzle, one of them hitting close to his eyes and forced him to close them both, all while he coughed and spat the orc's seed.  
He was sure he had reflexively swallowed some as well, which filled him with an immense sense of dread.

The orc's spunk dribbled down one of the worgen's eyes, so he could only open one of them to see the orc's cock weakly dripping the last remnants of his orgasm right in front of his muzzle. The smell of orc spunk was definitely caught by the worgen's nose, then intensified ten times over when the orc pressed forward again and used his nose and the fur of his muzzle to wipe his dick, smearing more cum over the worgen's face. Reilly could feel the splatters from his earlier shots on his fur, sticking to it and drying against it. The worgen pulled at the rope keeping his wrist tied behind his back, but of course, that was a vain effort. He continued to spit on the ground, albeit careful not to hit the orc's feet, even after he was sure that all the cum within his maw had already been either spat or swallowed.

"Not bad for an Alliance dog." The orc put his dagger away, then tucked his spent dick back into his pants before finally letting go of Reilly's head as well. Before he could do anything else, the orc was pulling him by his scruff again to force him to stand up. The worgen obeyed, but he still had to keep an eye closed because there was freaking cum near it. He could feel it all over his damn face. Much to the worgen's dismay, however, the orc forced him to turn away from the water rather than towards it, then gave him a shove to force him to start walking with him.

"Wait! I need to wash up!"

The orc sneered. "Now you would be grateful for a bath! Hah! You're not washing anything. That'll help you remember who's holding the reins here."

"W-what! But I-"

The grip on his scruff twisted it again, making him whimper in pain.

"You just got back on my good side, pup. You don't want to make me angry again. Dogs. Don't. Talk. Be good."

The worgen wanted to protest further, but the painful grip kept him from doing it. Soon enough, the orc relented on it, shoving him forward and making him fall back down on his knees to the grass next to the crude campsite that the orc prepared in this creepy gravesite. Though Reilly hadn't said a word, when he looked up he still saw the orc approaching him with the plain leather muzzle from before.

"Wait! That's not fair! I didn't s-"

The orc's hand simply came to clamp his muzzle shut and, though Reilly tried to fight against it, soon the leather muzzle had been draped over his snout again with the orc closing it tight behind his head. Though there was a hole for his nose in it, the smell of the orc's cum that was now trapped within the leather was still prominent for his nose. The brute still wiped his hand against the fur of his neck as well before stepping away, leaving Reilly unable to get the cum under the leather off his fur even if he did have any way to wipe or wash himself.

Defeated and tired, Reilly fell down to the grass and curled like a beaten dog he was. While the orc was now occupying himself around the campfire, the worgen could not even find the strength to try and struggle with the cum-filled muzzle. 

He was finished. 

The only chance to escape was thwarted and any hope of returning home was lost. Why didn't he just let the orc kill him back in Redridge? He was going to die anyway once the orc discovered the truth. At least in Redridge he would've died with dignity, spared of the unbearable humiliation. Now  
with every time he drew breath, he got a fresh whiff of the orc's cum. The pearly milk that was trapped in the leather muzzle was seeping through his shut lips, torturing his taste buds.

He should have just bit the orc's dick off when he had a chance! He was a dead man walking, so at least he could have done some damage! He could have taken some small revenge for himself!

But when the same thoughts were going through his head back there, he was too much of a coward to do it. 

Why was he such a coward! Why did he have to be a runt among his worgen peers! What crime did he commit, that he deserved to be beaten down his whole life! With anger, he clenched his jaw so hard his teeth were quietly creaking against each other. But his body and soul were both incredibly exhausted, so with a muffled sigh, all the tension left his body and his tired eyes closed shut.

"You got the right idea pup. Sleep while you can. We have a long journey and a lot of cold nights ahead of us."


End file.
